


Opposites

by Ignite_the_shadows



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Darkiplier - Freeform, Haha there is a lie somewhere in these tags, More beastiplier, Possible smut not sure just yet, antisepticeye, don't kill me for this, kind of darkiplier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignite_the_shadows/pseuds/Ignite_the_shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some unknown reason, Mark and Jack have been at each other's throats and turning into their opposites when they're around each other. Neither knows what's happening or how to stop it. But is it even worth stopping?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opposites

A dark head bashes against The wall hard as the half Korean man is roughly shoved. Lips pulled back, face contorted into a snarl as he wraps a hand around a pale throat, pushing harshly. He wanted to stop, his mind screaming as his blood pumped and his heart raced furiously. He didn't even know why he was so angry. Mark didn't even know who he was fighting or the reason for that either. All he could so much as comprehend was the uncontrollable rage, desire, no. _Need_ to destroy whoever was In front of him. Kicking him solidly in the abdomen. Normally, had Mark have been in his right mind, he would've made some wise- crack about how Darkiplier was taking over. Except he couldn't bring himself to do it. Looking at the tainted reflection of himself in the black wall behind him, forced the YouTuber to halt. He could barely see himself in the image that was presented to him. His usual, 'floofy' mop of raven hair was spiking at off angles, as if someone had tried to pull it out. Kind eyes seemingly long-forgotten as savage, rage filled brown orbs glared back with unfathomable hatred. Split lips (from a punch) stretched back to reveal a snarl filled with cruel looking, elongated teeth. Bruises littered muscled arms like flower petals on a still pond. Chest heaving, scarred and blood-stained knuckles aching pleasantly. In his mind, Mark was horrified... But his reflection just sneered back as a familiar, pained, Irish accent filled the silence. ''Mark?''

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, I apologise for any mistakes I have made and PLEASE don't judge on the name. Imake not actually sure whether or not to keep it as a one shot Or carry on writing. So if you have a preference, then please let me know!!!


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